Black Horizon by James Grippando

Author:James Grippando [Grippando, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

The lower Keys stretched more east-west than north-south, so Jack and Theo left the oil behind them on the drive from Key West. Jack knew they’d reached Marathon when they passed an ambulance from the Turtle Hospital—literally, a hospital for turtles; it wasn’t just a name. The middle Keys also had a hospital for wild birds, and with an oil spill approaching, both facilities were preparing for environmental disaster. Jack was looking for pier number eight at Boot Key Harbor, which was due east of a capsized ship that Hurricane Georges had swept into the mangroves. He had to shade his eyes from the setting sun to see it.

“Ever had a settlement conference on a yacht before?” asked Theo.

They were crossing a gravel parking lot toward a long wooden pier at the west end of the marina. Their destination was one of the bigger boats at the deep end of the marina.

“Nope. Lots of ‘firsts’ in this case, starting with first client abducted.”

“You have a short memory, dude.”

Jack quickly conceded. “Well, then it has to be the first time my client and I have been abducted in the same case.”

“Aren’t you forgetting a little incident involving a TV weatherman, two prostitutes, and the mayor’s daughter at the Hotel Bambi on Biscayne Boulevard?”

Jack would have liked to forget. “How about this: first case where I was kidnapped and my client was abducted on different days by the same guy?”

They stepped onto the pier as Theo searched his memory. “I do believe that’s a first.”

Boot Key Harbor is the best protected anchorage in all of the Keys, with plenty of marinas and thatch-roofed joints to reprovision, like the Chiki Tiki Bar and Grill. For those unfazed by the U.S. trade embargo, it was generally regarded as the best place to wait out the weather for crossing to Cuba. For lawyers who wanted to talk settlement, it was “meeting halfway,” a rough midpoint between Key West, where Jack was staying, and downtown Miami, the oil consortium’s first choice. It also solved the logistical problem of roadblocks, which prevented all but cleanup crews and emergency vehicles from entering the Keys. Jack couldn’t leave the Keys with any assurance of getting back in, and by boat was the best way for the oil consortium’s lawyers to enter the Keys.

“I’ll do the talking,” said Jack.

“Got it, chief,” said Theo.

“You’re here only as a witness, in case this blows up and somewhere down the line they accuse me of saying some outrageous thing I never said.”

“I won’t say a word,” said Theo.

Luis Candela stood at the end of the pier. The sun had dipped into the Gulf behind him, and the lead lawyer for the oil consortium was a silhouette against the burnt-orange sky. A gentle breeze blew across the mooring field, setting off a chorus of metallic pings, the sound of taut halyards slapping against the barren masts of the few remaining sailboats. Most boaters had taken heed of the NOAA warning and moved their

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